


Never Ever Let You Down

by gayclubanthem



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blowjobs, M/M, blink and you'll miss it larry, handjobs, there's not enough ziall wtf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-25
Updated: 2014-07-25
Packaged: 2018-02-10 08:38:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2018337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayclubanthem/pseuds/gayclubanthem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>zayn gets stressed.  niall just wants to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Ever Let You Down

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this ages ago and put it on tumblr then took it down because i'm a schmuck but hey it's back! i literally just wrote this for myself because there's not enough ziall and ziall is so so so so important. 
> 
> title is from ed sheeran's 8 grade aka my favorite by him

It's been a almost ten hours since Zayn's had a cigarette. He's tired from dance rehearsal followed by a two hour training session, not to mention how little sleep he's been getting thanks to the stress management has been putting on them to make this next tour the best one yet. Honestly, he thinks to himself, there's only so much they can do before it gets tacky. Besides, judging by the deafening screams that the five boys endure every other night, the tour is doing just fine. 

So yeah, Zayn's not really in a fantastic mood. 

He's been pretty good about hiding just how foul his mood really is. It's not like the others aren't sharing the hardships that go along with being on a world tour. It's easy to brush off the bags under his eyes and the grinding in his jaw when he can't quite get that turn synched up to everyone else's. That is, until one night Niall decides to come knocking on his hotel door at two in the morning just as Zayn is finally nodding off.

Tonight, Harry and Zayn were meant to be sharing a room, but as it was Louis' turn for a single, naturally, the two boys decided to make use of the time alone. Zayn isn't complaining. Harry has a tendency to snore when he dreams, which is often, and as previously mentioned, Zayn's sleeping schedule hasn't exactly been stellar. 

And then Niall, precious Niall with the best intentions always and the sweetest smile in all of the United Kingdom, raps his sharp knuckles against the heavy door calling out Zayn's name. Zayn considers ignoring it. Hell, any other member of the band and Zayn would've told them to fuck off already. But then Niall's voice is sounding again and Zayn groans softly as he all but drags himself out of the warm bed. He wrenches the door open, fighting back a glare. Niall stands there for a moment, probably shocked at Zayn's rather tense shoulders and downturned lips. 

"Can I help you?" Zayn mutters finally. Niall's eyes widen a bit, and his demeanor is suddenly a bit more stiff than before.

"I... sorry, I just-- have you got any food? Liam hid all mine for the night," Niall asks, tugging on is bottom lip with his teeth and taking a step forawrd.

Zayn is torn between laughing and groaning. Of course Niall wants food. Of course. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, willing himself not to shout at Niall to just go to bed already and leave him alone. Niall really isn't to blame for his appatite. Or Zayn's temper. Without a word, Zayn steps aside to let Niall in. It's like a ray of sunshine passes over Niall's face, even in the artificial light of the hotel hallway. 

Niall bounds inside, hands fisting in his loose tank top like a kid attempting to contain his excitement. He invites himself into the little kitchenette, going for the mini fridge before Zayn knows what’s happening.

“Thanks, mate,” Niall manages to mumble as he rifles through the mini fridge Zayn’s just about filled with leftover pizza and room service. They’ve all accumulated an obnoxious amount of food throughout the tour, really. They’re growing boys after all.

Zayn shrugs and feels a bit embarrassed for being rude. He presses his lips together and leans against the doorframe, watching as Niall picks out the largest slice of pizza and takes a bite out of it, not bothering with the microwave sitting not two feet away. 

“What’s wrong?” Niall asks through his mouthful, brows furrowed. His pale eyes are watching Zayn with an intensity he hadn’t noticed before and now Zayn really just wants to crawl back into bed and stay there until the end of the tour. He shakes his raven hair from his eyes and looks away, prompting Niall to take another bite of food before shutting the fridge and taking a few steps closer to Zayn.

Niall doesn’t say anything more, but his bright smile is slowly being replaced by a concerned frown. It feels as though Zayn’s trapped. He shakes his head again. He’s being stupid. Jesus, it’s just Niall. And it’s not like Niall is accusing him of anything, he just wants to know what’s wrong. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he finally says, his voice tighter than he had intended. Niall snorts and stuffs the last bit of crust from the pizza into his mouth.

“You’re brooding,” he claims, rolling his eyes when Zayn’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. “Don’t give me that look, I’m not blind. You’ve been upset all day.”

Zayn shrugs and lets out a small breath through his lips. Turns out he’s pretty transparent when it comes to Niall. Closing his eyes, Zayn feels that familiar twist in the pit of his gut that’s oddly like all of his inner organs are clenching and dropping at the same time. It’s something he’s grown used to around Niall. Niall with his cheeks that flush red far, far too easily and eyes that literally glimmer when they finish a song on stage and the crowd goes wild. Niall with his ridiculously easy going nature and inexplicable ability to reach further into Zayn’s being with two words and a mouthful of cold pizza.

And Zayn doesn’t really want to think about how hard his heart beats whenever Niall lays across his lap in the dressing room, a quip about Zayn’s hair on the tip of his tongue and his fingers brushing the skin of Zayn’s bare neck. 

“Zee?”

Zayn starts at the nickname. Niall doesn’t use it often. It’s not even that special. But it’s enough to force Zayn’s eyes open to meet Niall’s soft gaze, clenching his bottom lip between his teeth and wondering what Niall’s planning on saying.

As it so happens, Niall isn’t really planning on saying anything.

Instead he lets out this little huff that’s actually really adorable if Zayn is being honest and takes one step closer to Zayn until they’re inches apart, Niall staring up at Zayn through his eyelashes.

“Listen,” he begins, sounding more serious than Zayn is used to, “I don’t know what’s wrong, but whatever it is, I know you must be kind of stressed. Tour’s been rough this year and we’ve all been kind of uptight and you have this nasty habit of not telling us when you’re having a hard time.”

Zayn can’t really do much but nod a bit sheepishly in response. He tries to cast his eyes downward but Niall commands his gaze.

“Here,” Niall grunts, and then his lips are sealed tight against Zayn’s. He pulls Zayn’s lower lip from between his teeth and kisses him right and proper, noses bumping before they tilt their heads and fall into it with less effort than Zayn would have guessed it’d take.

Actually, kissing Niall is sort of effortless. It’s comfortable and sweet and mellow and feels familiar in a way that has Zayn’s fingertips pressing into Niall’s jaw, up his neck, the backs of his ears, and into his hair. Niall’s lips press into his own a bit more firmly. 

Zayn is the first to pull away, but it’s only because he’d forgotten to breathe. He rests his forehead against Niall’s, a small smile etching into his features. Before he can bring himself to kiss Niall again, however, he pulls away, a question in his midnight black iris’.

“Yeah, I feel it too. All the time,” Niall reassures him, peppering the side of Zayn’s face with light kisses. Zayn moves his head just so and captures Niall’s impossibly soft lips again, swallowing his soft gasp and using his grip in Niall’s hair to pull his head back and slide his whole body closer. Niall’s lips fall open and Zayn takes the invitation, delving his tongue into Niall’s mouth and claiming it like he’s been longing to do for the longest time. 

Neither of them realize they’re shaking until Zayn pulls away again, wet lips quick to find the side of Niall’s neck, stretched open and pale beneath Zayn’s touches. They ignore it for the most part, instead letting their low sighs and quiet murmurs be the only sound to disturb the otherwise silent room. Niall’s arms wrap around Zayn’s waist, hands clenching and unclenching in his shirt every time Zayn finds a new tendon to suck on for a while. Zayn really shouldn’t be surprised, but he can’t get enough of Niall’s skin, of the small noises he’s making, of the press of his hips suddenly so much more noticeable against his own.

Niall’s the first to say anything. He chokes out a few stuttered words before he can properly communicate, but once he’s got the full sentence formed in his head, he leans away from Zayn’s embrace.

“Bed?”

The word sends a thrumming excitement through Zayn’s veins. Without saying anything in response, he begins backing up in the general direction of the bed, still messy from Zayn’s earlier attempt to catch up on sleep. They fall into it, teeth cracking together and joints shoving into muscles. Ignoring the pain, Zayn manages to get a decent grip on Niall’s forearms and leans over him until Niall is spread out beneath him, a dark blush spreading high across his cheekbones.

“Can I take your shirt off?” Niall gasps, already tugging impatiently at the fabric of Zayn’s t-shirt. Zayn sits up on his heels, straddling one of Niall’s legs as he all but rips his shirt off. He’s quick to return to Niall’s heat. He shivers with every brush of Niall’s hands against his bare skin, grabbing and holding against his ribcage, his waist, his shoulder blades… wherever they can reach. 

Zayn doesn’t know who initiates the next kiss, but it’s blazing hot despite the gooseflesh raising along his arms. They don’t stop kissing until Niall tugs his own shirt off and finds the strength to reverse their positions, swinging one leg over Zayn’s hips and gazing down at the disheveled man below him. There’s a quirk in both of their smiles, a slight upturn to one corner of the lips, barely hinting at a smirk but softened by the glimmer in their eyes.

“How far is this going?” 

Zayn can’t hide his relief that Niall was the one to ask. Niall lets out a playful chuckle, teeth scraping across the slight stubble along Zayn’s jaw. When Zayn doesn’t respond he pulls away.

“If we’re being honest here, I kind of want to get off with you,” Niall admits with a shrug. “And with how tense you’ve been…” he trails off, digging his thumbs into the words inked across Zayn’s collarbone.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s a fantastic idea,” Zayn agrees, smoothing his palms over Niall’s back and tugging him down into a slow kiss. Everything is easy. Their bodies mould together, chests heaving against one another and hips lining up so with every slight movement they’re met with a flash of delicious friction. It’s making Zayn’s brain dizzy. Now that they’ve decided just how far they were going, Zayn’s mind wonders how they’re going to get there and to be honest, he doesn’t really care much, but he wants to know what to mentally prepare himself for. He parts his lips to ask, but then Niall is scattering feather light kisses across the slightly sweat damp skin of Zayn’s torso and he hopes Niall isn’t in the mood for teasing tonight.

The process of getting into a more comfortable position is a bit more awkward than necessary. Niall giggles and apologizes when he accidentally elbows Zayn in the rib, and Zayn has a hard time figuring out where to put his hands. Finally, Niall stands up, the bulge in his sweatpants attracting Zayn’s gaze. Niall pulls on Zayn’s thighs until his hips are just at the edge of the bed, Niall between his legs, cheek pressed against his knee in a way that shouldn’t be as adorable as it is under the circumstances. 

Niall spares Zayn a brief glance, smiling before nuzzling his nose into the top of his thigh next to his hip. Zayn shutters beneath his touch, back arching off of the bed. He means to chastize Niall about his knee, but when he opens his mouth, Niall dips his finger below the waistband of Zayn’s boxers, thumb brushing over his erection. It’s the gentlest of grazes, but it has Zayn fisting his hands into Niall’s hair. He tries not to be forceful, but he can’t really help the way he directs Niall’s head towards the center of his waist. With the slyest grin Zayn’s seen all night, Niall follows his lead while tugging his boxers down. Zayn knows he’s probably making these ridiculous little whimpering noises, but they only seem to egg Niall on. His rosy lips, kiss swollen and looking so, so perfect, brush over the head of Zayn’s cock. He presses a kiss there, trailing those damn lips down the length of him, taking his time.

“Fuck, Niall… please,” Zayn’s voice cracks, if only from the anticipation. He feels so wound tight, muscles twitching and heart clenched in his chest. He wants this… needs this. Niall seems to sense Zayn's despiration and takes sweet mercy, closing his lips around his head and sucking.

Zayn sighs heavily, his fingers playing with the strands of Niall’s hair, thumbs brushing over the tops of his ears. Niall looks incredible, eyes closed but not in a way that would suggest he’s blocking it out. More as if he’s concentrating. Savoring. He hums around Zayn’s cock, head dipping to take a bit more of him before setting up a slow rhythm of bobbing. His tongue presses firmly against a prominent vein, mapping out the shape of Zayn with each time he pulls up. 

“Yes, yes- oh, God. Niall,” Zayn doesn’t even realize he’s mumbling until Niall brings his hand around to grasp the base of his cock, a new kind of heat sizzling its way through Zayn’s body. Fingers digging into Niall’s scalp, he lets out a low groan and forces himself not to buck his hips up into the sweet wet suction of Niall’s mouth.

It’s then that Zayn realizes he’s going to end embarrassingly soon.

Normally, Zayn would be able to control himself, but his mind is too far gone to think about anything other than Niall Niall oh fuck Niall don’t stop please Niall.

Niall picks up on this too, just like he picks up on everything Zayn’s feeling. He opens his eyes to meet Zayn’s, their stares locking as Niall tightens his fist and works Zayn’s cock faster, deeper. Zayn’s toes curl into the carpet and without warning, he’s hissing Niall’s name and coming. Niall backs away, pumping Zayn through his high and licking absently at the drips of white scattered across his lips and cheek.

It’s honestly the hottest thing Zayn thinks he’s ever seen. 

Before he can let himself become too sated, he takes Niall by the forearm and drags him back onto the bed. It’s rough and quick and dirty, but soon Niall’s sweatpants are around his knees and the two are on their sides facing each other, Zayn’s hand grasping Niall’s neglected erection. His pace is slow, but in a way that brings Niall close to the edge within minutes. He makes soft mewling noises against the skin of Zayn’s shoulder, fingers clutching at his arm so hard his knuckles are white. Zayn kisses the top of Niall’s forehead, just at his hairline, keeping him impossibly close as his hand picks up pace, wrist flicking around the head and grip loosening on the downward strokes, as if coaxing Niall to come.

It works. Niall’s more obvious as he approaches the edge, his whimpers and sighs turning into keens and moans. There are no words, just his voice, hoarse and desperate. It’s all Zayn ever wants to hear ever again. Three more strokes and Niall’s legs shake, coming across Zayn’s hand and their lower abdomens. 

When Niall’s finished, they both sit in silence for a few moments catching their breath and trying to regain proper consciousness. Zayn’s limbs feel heavy, weighted to the bed. He’s more relaxed than he’s been in what feels like weeks, and beside him, Niall looks like he’s right there with him. 

“Please tell me you like to cuddle after sex because if you don’t I’m leaving and never speaking to you again,” Niall states, biting his bottom lip and shuffling a few inches closer to Zayn. 

“Can’t say I do, but I’m not sure anyone can resist the face you’re making right now,” Zayn replies, leaning in to kiss Niall, grimacing a bit at the bitter taste of himself. Niall chuckles and gropes around behind him for the blanket, pulling it over them and pressing himself against Zayn. Their legs mingle together, Zayn’s arms wrapping around Niall’s shoulders and pulling him in against his chest. 

“Feel better?” Niall questioned, voice dropping with sleepiness. 

“Yes, though I wouldn’t oppose to doing that for fun, either. Y’know… regardless of my stress level.”

Niall laughs.

“Anything for you, Zee.”

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is [gayclubanthem](http://gayclubanthem.tumblr.com) come say hi sometimes i bake cookies


End file.
